Never Stop Hoping
by elenwyn
Summary: It just so happens that this Petrelli is her ex-boyfriend, hosting a party for her and her current boyfriend as a 'welcome back to New York', Another 'typical' - Peter Petrelli is such a gentleman. AU Paire one-shot. Heavily inspired by 'The Dark Knight'.


**A/N:** IA is coming, I promise. I just needed to get this completely out of my head. The start of a new school is begnning to get easier, so I'm starting to find a balance between school work and writing again. **Minor spoilers for Season 3 due to new character mentions.** AU Paire, so they're not related in this one, kay?

Also, this is heavily inspired by the film, _The Dark Knight_, so any similarities and quotations are intentional and are not mine. I don't own Heroes, or the lyrics at the beginning of this fic, which belong to Malcolm Middleton. Enjoy! I'd love some feedback ;)

--

_"You can be my hero by not letting me down._

_Not letting me down again and by being around."_

--

The party's magnificent, the guests are elegant, and the hospitality is superb. All rather typical for a Petrelli party, if Claire's allowed that thought.

It just so happens that this Petrelli is her ex-boyfriend, hosting a party for her and her current boyfriend as a 'welcome back to New York'. Another 'typical' – Peter Petrelli is such a gentleman.

Claire sighs inwardly as she watches Andy acquaint himself with the current surroundings, a little overwhelmed at the Big Apple as the biggest city he's ever been to is the city centre in Midland. She links arms with him to help calm his nerves, "Don't worry," she says quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "They might be wealthy, but they won't hurt you."

Andy nods, seemingly relaxing at her simple touch, and the young woman smiles, letting his hand clasp around hers as they walk together into the already mingling crowd, the laughter of socialites tinkling in their ears.

She re-acquaints herself with old 'friends' – they only ever acknowledged her, a small-town, Texas girl, when she had been on Peter's arm, so their faux grins as they spot her and embrace her with air kisses and inquires to her health is merely a façade, but she plays along. The music the band plays flows through her like a soothing balm, making her stomach relent somewhat with the constant butterflies that have been plaguing her since she got here.

Peter will be making his grand entrance soon, if he's not here already, and Claire is both greatly anticipating and fearing this moment at the same time; she hasn't really spoken to him in five years, not since they separated.

Accepting a flute of champagne, she politely listens to the conversation being held as the current circle she's in question Andy endlessly about his family, profession and, rudely, his salary.

"Well," one of the elegant ladies laughs, turning towards Claire, "I suppose you were never the one to care about money in the first place, were you, darling?"

It's said in that snide sort of way that makes the blonde remember Jackie Wilcox from years ago all too vividly; the wealthy of Manhattan always liked to make out Claire was a gold-digger from start.

Anger bubbles lightly beneath her skin, but a warm, distinctly male voice answers for her, its baritone still able to cause goose bumps to prickle along her arms.

"I can definitely vouch that Claire's never cared for the ridiculously wealthy, Isabella, she's always felt they were so pretentiously pompous."

The woman in question bristles rather visibly; she and her companions soon leave, and Claire's now faced with the exact moment she was sort of wishing would never arrive.

Facing him.

Unfortunately, Peter ends up doing it for her, rounding on Andy immediately before she can so much as blink in his direction.

"Andy! Claire's told me so much about you. I'm glad I could finally have the pleasure."

Andy grins, shaking Peter's hand with an easy stance, "She's told me everything about you, too."

"I certainly hope not," Peter's eyes glance momentarily towards her, and she's treated with a sudden nostalgic feeling of remembering just how _handsome_ he is, and how those eyes, that smile, always made her feel…

No. That bridge was burned a long time ago. They've both changed, both for the better. It was always going to be better this way.

--

"_I can't keep living like this, Peter, I can't. I'm eighteen, for crying out loud!"_

_He pulls her towards him, foreheads touching in a fervent attempt to get her to look him in the eye. She's crying, and he kisses the tears away, running his hands up and down her arms._

"_It won't be forever, I promise. You know, one day I won't –"_

"_You won't need to be the hero? Don't be stupid. Someone will always need your help…someone will always need you more than I do."_

_The light in her eyes has dimmed, and Peter shakes his head, kissing her fully on the mouth._

"_But I could never need anyone else but you."_

--

They'd gone their separate ways, both promising never to reveal the other's powers to anyone else, although Claire has never told Andy about her regenerative talents.

Everything is simple and lovely with him, she's finally got to be _normal_, and she treasures that somewhat, even if part of her still craves for the spontaneity that being with Peter provided.

In fact, Claire had only got back in touch with him through Heidi Petrelli, his brother's wife, and for the last few months they'd corresponded on and off through e-mails. When Heidi invited both Claire and Andy to New York, Claire accepted, and Peter had immediately set out to throw a party for her return.

That's the difference between the then and now Peter, in her eyes. The Peter she'd been with had utterly detested the status his family name had bought him. Now, however, it seemed he is finally settling into the Petrelli fold, although she knows directly from his e-mails that his penchant for heroics has anything but disappeared.

"Welcome back, Claire," Peter says with a smile that holds nothing but kindness, "You look wonderful."

"Thanks," she replies, feeling a faint blush taint her cheeks; he's always been a charmer, "So do you."

He waves it off, and casually asks Andy if he can borrow her for a moment or two. Of course, her boyfriend says yes, and Claire has to ignore the tingles the touch of his hand sends through her body as Peter leads them through the dance floor and onto the balcony.

She looks out for a moment at the skyline, still so breathtakingly beautiful after five years, and waits for him to speak. If anyone's going to start a conversation, it should be him.

Instead, he follows her lead, leaning his forearms against the railing and breathing in the night air, inclining his head only slightly in her direction, "You really do look beautiful, Claire."

"Flattery's always been your strong point, Peter. What do you want?"

Her eyes follow his form as he breathes out, running a hand through his slicked back hair, "Do you remember what you said to me before you left?"

It's Claire's turn to sigh as she turns fully towards him, looking up with sad eyes, "Peter –"

"I could give you everything now, everything you wanted from me and more," His tone of voice is low, almost casual to a passer-by, but the intensity in his eyes makes her realise he's clung onto her last words for five years with a reckless hope.

"But you haven't…you told me yourself…"

"I'd stop it all for you. I'd live a normal life with you, forever."

--

"_Claire –"_

_His voice sounds so broken that she can almost not bear to turn around, a travel bag clasped in one hand._

"_Claire, please."_

"_I'm sorry, Peter," It's then that she does face him, eyes wet with tears and a love that still radiated from her soul, "I just can't do this anymore."_

"_No, give me a chance, please." He tries to take her free hand but she snatches it away, biting her lip and looking down at the floor, before looking back up and stepping towards him, caressing his cheek gently._

"_One day, when the world doesn't need you as its hero anymore, I'll be here. I'll always be here, Peter. I'm sorry."_

--

"You can't say that," Claire tears her eyes away from him, "It's a part of you. I shouldn't have asked you to change who you are, nor keep you hanging onto a thread of hope. Things have changed, Peter, I've changed. I love Andy."

"Do you?" He asks suddenly, in a voice that almost causes her to ask that question herself, "Do you really?"

Steeling herself, Claire prepares to do the thing that will sever all bonds she's ever had with Peter, that will break his heart, and hers, all over again.

Except screams from inside drown out her words, and Peter's gone in a flash. Claire's left bewildered as to what's going on, rushing inside to find Andy, but only meeting with a once familiar face she thought was long dead.

_Sylar_.

"Hello, Claire," The murderer intones, cocking his head to one side with a sinister smile on his face, "It's been a while."

"You were killed…I saw you. You're supposed to be dead," Claire's heart rate is quickening, people are backing away in fear as more felons enter the room, all of whom are supposed to be in confinement: Knox, Flint, Jesse…'specials' that Peter took care of.

"Oh no, I was never killed," Sylar chuckles, "And when I heard you were coming back to town, well, my friends and I thought we should come and greet you, considering we're old _friends_."

From the corner of her eye, she sees Andy take a step forward, "You leave her alone, she 'ain't done nothin' to you."

The former watch-maker merely rolls his eyes as Andy nears enough towards him to try and make a punch before, with a simple, light flick of his fingers, sending him flying across the room, his body hitting the back wall with a sickening thud.

"I've always disliked golden boys who play the hero."

Claire's stomach turns, trying to run towards Andy's now stationary body, but Sylar's telekinesis stops her in her tracks, and she's left standing face-to-face with the man who hunted her for a year and a half to get at her ability.

"But I do like golden-haired beauties," The villain sneers, grabbing Claire's neck and forcing her head up to look at him. She stares back defiantly, the rest of the room in petrified silence as the other criminals threaten to showcase their own 'talents.'

"Tell me, cheerleader. Where's that knight in shining armour, Peter Petrelli, right now?" He spits out her former lover's name as if it were poison.

"Behind you."

Claire barely has time to scramble out of the way before a punch is sent in Sylar's direction, the blow catching the psychopath off guard and flooring him. She only makes it to Andy's body – unconscious, bleeding, but still alive, thank God – for a few seconds before Knox, the man who haunted her dreams only second to Sylar himself, grabs her by her hair.

She struggles and yells out, causing Peter to stop in the motion of another hit Sylar's face long enough for him to force the young Petrelli backwards and into one of the tables of drink, glass shattering all around him.

When Peter gets back up, it's Sylar that has Claire, dangling her telekinetically over the 20 storey drop from the balcony.

"Let her go!" He commands, catching her eyes for a fleeting moment to try and reassure her.

"Bad choice of words," Sylar answers and, with a last, menacing grin, loosens his grip. Claire plummets, and Peter dives after her, not caring that she'd heal afterwards.

It takes about five seconds for him to catch up with her and wrap his arms around her body, holding her closely and letting his flight kick in, making them both hover midway above the street.

She looks up at him with gratitude, "I would've been fine."

"I didn't want to give him the satisfaction," He murmurs, gaze darting to her lips and back, letting them both catch their breath before speaking once more, "Andy will be all right."

"I know," she says after another pause, and Peter's well aware of the double meaning as she leans in to brush her lips with his, "I know he will."

--

"_Do you?" He asks suddenly, in a voice that almost causes her to ask that question herself, "Do you really?"_

_Even though the noises from inside drown out her words and he's no longer there, they still ring in Claire's ears like a CD stuck on repeat, and she knows he's heard them anyway._

"_Yes, Peter. Yes, I love him. Just not as much as I love you."_


End file.
